


Will-o-the-Wisp

by BlackMajjicDuchess



Series: Namesake [9]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Absent Parents, Depression, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Family, Ghosts, Insomnia, Loss, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Repressed Memories, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Treachery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackMajjicDuchess/pseuds/BlackMajjicDuchess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I got the idea in my head one day to bring some of the Naruto characters face-to-face with the thing they were named after for the first time. I thought it might be fun. Also accepting challenges!</p><p>Stories will be posted separately but as part of the Namesake series.</p><p>Part 9: Will-o-the-Wisp</p><p>Some memories are just too sad to be remembered, no matter how fiercely loved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will-o-the-Wisp

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ishimaru_Asuka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishimaru_Asuka/gifts).



> To issue a challenge, just comment on one of the stories in the series with the name you'd like to see done. The only stipulation is that it HAS to be a name that has a meaning, and it has to be a meaning that is something one can encounter. Example: Madara means "spots." What the heck am I supposed to do with that? On the other hand, Naruto's name refers to some kind of fish cake, which is something he could confront somehow.
> 
> Genma Shiranui challenge from Ishimaru_Asuka
> 
> Genma = some kind of binary star?  
> Shiranui = Phosphorescence, Will-o-the-Wisp
> 
> Will-o-the-Wisp: a mystical, often treacherous fairy light that often leads the unwary into treacherous bogs.

 The blankets were suffocating him. Or strangling him, he wasn’t completely sure. What he _was_ sure of was that he was itchy, hot, and uncomfortable, and the blankets needed to go. He’d been tossing and turning for several hours already and he’d had enough. Apparently sleep wasn’t happening tonight either. With a long suffering sigh, he threw the blankets off his body with more force than he intended; they ended up in a heap on the floor, conveniently covering up the piles and piles of dirty laundry he hadn’t gotten to yet.

He felt like a zombie in his own apartment. It was a good thing that his room was so small; everything he needed was always close at hand. He doddered to the toilet to relieve himself. A short stumble away was the sink and a glass for a drink of water. From there he only needed to fall backward—after tripping on a pile of unidentifiable laundry—to sit down on his bed again. It was a good thing he spent so little time here. Between missions and paperwork and other random tasks assigned by the Hokage or one of her many minions, he stayed pretty busy.

But sleeping was always an unfortunate failure. It had been nearly ten years since he had had a good night’s sleep. Ever since… he shook his foggy head, trying to clear the memories. It seemed that any amount of time could pass, and he’d still never be over it. He supposed that was mostly normal, though, even if it killed him inside. If he had been a little less stubborn, maybe he’d talk to somebody about it.

Instead, he put on a brave face and dealt with the world the only way he had ever known how. He cracked jokes, teased, and laughed where most people wouldn’t. If he could ease the pain and suffering of others, it took the edge off of his own agony for just a little while. He brought levity to situations that were exceedingly dire, throwing his friends off their guard just long enough to drag a laugh from their unwilling throats. It brought him a modicum of peace. But that was it… just a smidgen, a tiny morsel of happiness to feed an achingly empty, starving beast within his chest.

He dragged off his bandana and scratched at his ears. He’d forgotten to take it off before bed again. At least he hadn’t forgotten about the dangerous ninja weapon between his lips this time. Just another lonely night in the life of Genma Shiranui. All across the Leaf Village, citizens and ninja alike were either sleeping or on patrol, likely with their own batch of problems and worries, or their own brand of happiness. He had had that, once.

His eyes sought the window. He wondered if it was a human instinct, too, to seek the nearest escape or the most interesting point in the room. Animals and plants did the same thing, seeking sunlight, or the way up, or where the food was. Outside, the moon had nearly slivered itself to death. The new moon would be upon them in a few short days, and the earth would be as black as his mood. Beneath the hook of its light, a smaller lantern twinkled, the only star in the sky.

He blinked, looking again. No, not a star. What was that? It was… beautiful, he realized. The light was a pale, almost white, green color. It sparkled and flickered, dancing to and fro like a candle flame. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt… drawn to it somehow.

_Daddy?_

He froze, blood stopping its circulation, every one of his senses in tense suspension, ears pricked like a deer in sight of a predator. Where had that sound come from? His head craned slowly back and forth, hardly daring to believe his own ears. He _had_ heard it, hadn’t he? Moments passed.

_Daddy?_

All of a sudden, his heart resumed its beating, simultaneously speeding up. He hadn’t imagined it, then. As impossible as it was, his daughter was out there. He stood so fast that he didn’t remember doing it. He did remember jamming on the first pair of pants that he was sure were pants. He didn’t remember flinging open the door to his apartment, but he _did_ remember the blast of cool air as he stepped outside the apartment building. “Hoshiko!” he called out to the night air.

The hovering flicker of light he had seen from his window bobbed and dipped in response. _Daddy?_ He hadn’t been mistaken. That was definitely her voice, but it was inside its head. The dancing light was suspicious, but he hardly questioned it. Hoshiko’s voice was clear as day, and that tiny, guttering light was so insistent… could it be? Was this light his daughter? “Hoshiko…” he murmured more softly, walking towards it.

The light retreated, shying from his touch, stopping a further distance away. He felt a momentary pang of regret. Had she not forgiven him? It wasn’t as if he had wanted to leave her there… “Hoshiko,” he beseeched, walking slowly toward the light, afraid that she might flee. “It's Daddy. I would have come sooner, if I had known. I’m sorry. You must know that I loved you.”

The otherworldly lantern swayed on the cool breeze, and for a moment Genma was afraid that the wind might dissipate the essence, and his little girl would be gone forever. The thought occurred to him that he might be dreaming. _I don’t care,_ he thought to himself. _This is a good dream._ If Hoshiko could forgive him, then maybe Yuzuki could, too. _Daddy, I’m scared_ , it lamented. It retreated a little further, tucking itself back into the trees. The fact that the light remained just as bright as ever, further contrasted by the shadows beneath the branches, solidified the fact that it was not a star. It _had to be_ Hoshiko. As crazy as the idea was, the facts were the facts. Crazier things had happened before.

With her confession, he stopped questioning it. His little girl was frightened. Every rational thought he could have had fled his mind in that moment. He ran towards her. “Hoshiko, I’m here. I can protect you.” He reached for the light as he ran, but it only retreated further and further, drawing him deeper and deeper into the forest. His heart ached desperately, needing to reach her, hold her, guard her, _keep her_. Branches whipped at his face as he ran, but the stubborn little spark remained just outside the grasp of his fingertips. The tears came, born of frustration and sadness.

_I’m so scared… they’re coming._

_NO!_ He roared with desperation and made a furious leap, reaching for her light. At that moment, the light winked out, and he crashed into a mysterious pond in the midst of very unfamiliar lands. He wept in fear and frustration, thinking that somehow he had killed her tenuous grasp on life. The bouts of guilt mixed with melancholy coursed through his body, and despite the fact that he was knee deep in rank, earthy water, he didn’t much care. The light was an impossible, foolish hope. Hoshiko wasn’t here, and neither was Yuzuki. He must have been dreaming, which meant that this pond wasn’t real, either. That made sense; he had patrolled every inch of these woods, and there was no pond in this area of Konoha.

“Genma,” a gentle, impossible voice whispered. He denied it. She wasn’t real, either. None of this was.

Except that he felt her hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up, he saw her pale, perfect face. She was older, now, a realization that made her presence true. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Yuzuki?”

She nodded, her face serene and shining with love. He couldn’t decide what to do… should he run, or should he kiss her? She was supposed to be dead. She and Hoshiko had perished when their village was destroyed. But, he dared not speak, nor move, afraid that if he even breathed too heavily, the illusion would dispel, and she’d be gone. She lay one hand upon his forehead, caressing his face. Her expression was sad, and he wondered why. If she was here, and Hoshiko had been a moment ago…

…was he dead, too?

“Genma,” she whispered. “You’ve  been suffering for so long. I came to help you.”

He gazed up at her, still kneeling in the pond. He was shivering from the chill, but his soul was warm and he didn’t care. He trusted her, as she had mistakenly trusted him. He hadn’t saved her or their child from her fate, had hidden their relationship from everyone, and daily tried to forget them both. For nearly a decade, he had dealt with trying to accept that he’d never have a way to earn their forgiveness for not being there. He was sure he could have done something…

He waited numbly as she formed the hand signs. He smiled as she pressed her palm against his forehead, burning the seal there. He gasped in surprise as all of the memories of Uzushiogakure, Hoshiko, and Yuzuki were condensed into a tight, tiny little ball, and cried out in pain when the seal seared the connection, forever removing him from who she was or what she had meant to him. All of the reasons for his anguish contained in one neat little package, forever out of his reach.

* * *

He opened his eyes slowly, reveling in the way the blankets seemed to cushion and cradle his sore body. Goodness, how wonderful a bed felt in the morning after a good night’s sleep. He’d had the most pleasant dream… he didn’t remember any of the details, though there was surely a pretty woman involved. He smiled, glad to be alive and looking forward to the day. There might be paperwork—there was always paperwork—but after a good night’s sleep, he felt energetic and ready for anything.  

  


**Author's Note:**

> Hm. For reasons I'm still being kind of tight-lipped about, I'm a little obsessed with Uzushiogakure. 
> 
> I've been purposely vague (for me, anyway). Most of the answers you need to what's going on are contained in the story. There are some things that are a little more open-ended (is she dead? why would she do that if she's alive?). I'm leaving that part up to you, brave reader. 
> 
> This one was REALLY sad. But I hope you liked it anyway?
> 
> Thanks for the challenge!


End file.
